


Steal What You Want: The Story of Narga Mujuuk

by Epona (Amatea)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Erotica, F/F, Humor, Intersex, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 09:42:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21034205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amatea/pseuds/Epona
Summary: Narga Mujuuk, pariah of the Mujuuk clan, runs from her family and the law. Honest work eludes her until a chance encounter with a pair of visiting misfits, Bout'a Throdoun and Serene Thicket. Things get pretty ugly between the three them, but their adventures together may end up worth more than their two thousand gil haul. Or not.





	Steal What You Want: The Story of Narga Mujuuk

Steal What You Want

The Story of Narga Mujuuk

Ch1: Just Run Up and Rob Them

Narga Mujuuk opens her eyes to find her own balls, clay brown and petite, pumping gobs of honey into her mouth in muffled wet squishes. Cum hits the tip of her tongue from the glans shoved deep inside, welling up in loads hoarded between her cheeks, decadent musk filling her nose. Nothing but the guttural sounds of swallowing reach her navy blue feline ears, the rolling thunder of lusty self indulgence muting the outside world. Her own seed tastes so good, so sweet that the discomfort of curling upside down to suck herself off washes away with every gulp. Heavy breaths rise and fall through her nostrils. Remnants of every spurt stick to her fangs and the walls of her mouth. Ropes of semen twist around hypnotically, spreading down to her throat, sinking down into her greedy stomach.

Evidenced by her bulging stomach, a watermelon-sized protrusion tipped by her belly-button, the extent of her want reaches out beyond her need. A liquid sloshing fills her flicking black ears. She’s so full. ‘Gods, just one more good spurt’ she pleads to her demure testicles, bidding them to silently bunch up her sticky cum with a clench of muscle, praying with tongue on phallus that her throat receives another milky gift to swallow.

Her goldenrod, feral irises contract. A single tear glistens over the blood red accents around her eyes. ‘Mmm...Mew...Give it... to...’ Euphoria stops her inner pleading. Her cheeks swell, her eyes roll back, and the tip of her exhausted dick pops out to rain white bliss over her. Springy, just as long as her middle finger, her clit-dick remains hard as rock even after blowing another load over herself.

Later, at a darker hour, the Miqo’te emerges from between a rock and a cliff face into the desert dusk. The absence of a throbbing cock in her mouth is disorienting, but makes it quite easier to breathe. Her leather harness, a sparse but solid web of brown and black straps, strains a little to hold all the cum inside her. The still desert chill shrouds her in secrecy. Narga takes care not to disturb the tranquility of a sleeping desert. Nothing but the scratch of leather sandals on dusty rock mark her descent. When she almost slips her footing, a realization hits her. She notices her muscles, particularly her back, faintly aching.

Ul’dah’s lights tower over the landscape, its opulent domes and spires announcing safe haven to those with the coin or the cunning. Narga cracks her knuckles as she walks to a shadowed portion of its high walls. She deftly climbs the vertical structure and leaps down into an empty alleyway. From the canopy of hanging laundry and too-narrow columns of crates, Narga plots her next heist.

Beneath the purple and blue checkered roof of a noble’s home, a window hangs invitingly open. Like the shadow of an owl flying overhead, she climbs up the wall and rests on the windowsill, lingering for a moment to glance out at the view behind her.

Lounging in the hot water of the porcelain tub, Narga keeps her ears open for the sound of a servant’s shoes shuffling across the carpet. Tonight, she had plans to keep. As she scrubs the dried cum off her skin she goes over a plan in her head. After escaping from this house, she would hit the Chamber of Rule and steal another painting. Then the night market would begin to gather, a ripe opportunity to lift from some pockets. Finally, the monsters wandering outside the city walls would cover her escape as she goes out for a morning hunt. Above all else, she would remain unnoticed, if invisibility eludes her. The key to such an existence, Narga has learned, is to sever any and all personal relationships before they stick and fester. After all, she’s just visiting.

Narga climbs down the windowsill, a six story high-rise that reduces the city below to a sprawling patchwork of roof tiles and tents, of noble ambitions towering over peaceful dreams. She scowls at the whole place from the shadows. “Now, where in this pompous city did they hang that painting?”

She stalks from the lanterns of the House of Rule, drops onto the carpet below and strips a painting from its frame moments before an armed guard enters the room. Out in the night market, where a hurried crowd of people line up and flutter around stalls, unaware of a hand deftly darting in and out like a fishing hook to snatch their wallets.

Sneaking into an alleyway to examine her bounty, Narga finds a tiny blue marble with a purple, reptilian pattern. ‘Poor bastard lost his linkpearl. If he has enough money to afford one, he can go buy another.’ But she realizes a second later the absurd logic of that statement and admonishes herself. Linkshells allow one to communicate telepathically with another across long distances. This theft could mean the death of a career, a relationship, a community for one unfortunate Ul’dah denizen. She bites the linkpearl with her teeth to check it it’s an actual linkpearl and not a jawbreaker. Satisfied with its hardness, she drops it into a tiny pouch on her waist.

Early morning, and the heat returns to torment the waking hunters roving out into the plains for their catch. Narga tails some distance behind a crowd of adventurers with her knives drawn, watching the cliffs at her flanks for giant birds and lizards. Rocs, her favorite prey, nest around certain tree-

Her ears explode with pain. Echoes bounce off the walls inside her head as Narga holds a hand over her cheek. “It’s naughty time” announces a gruff voice. The words repeat in a cascade of command, overwhelming Narga’s thoughts and vision. She watches a pink hue bleed into the colors of her world. Her legs get weaker, and she fumbles her steps. An invisible hand lifts her heart, her breasts up to defy gravity. The grip on her knives suddenly feels tighter, the sensation of her hands grasping something immensely pleasurable, so much that a wild grin appears on her lips. As if bashing against a wall in her throat, the voice gets louder until it escapes in a whisper.

“It’s naughty time” Narga says in a breath. She strains her brow and tries to remember what that is exactly. Her cock strains against its leather prison. “No question that I’m a naughty little feline. I’m a thief. Must be my instincts telling me it’s the perfect time to steal. Those hunters up ahead...” she starts to walk faster. “An archer and a lancer. They don’t look so tough. I could just run up and rob them no sweat.” A resurgent predator licks her lips. “Yeah. I can feel it. They have what I want. Steal what you want. Forage for what you need. That’s the Mujuuk way. The way the world works.”

The archer in question, an old miqo’te with tan, calloused skin, plucks at his bowstring, producing a high pitched C note to start his song.

“_The mud shines with moonlight_

_The vulture takes graceful flight_

_L_ _over, take this bloodied hand and open my eyes_

_To __the__ pretty, __pretty __ugly__ things_”

“Nice” compliments the lancer, who walks by his side along the dirt road. “Take care not to seduce the monster before we slay it. Wouldn’t want to break its beastly heart before piercing the same organ.”

“But should I fit that at the beginning or the end of the song?” the archer asks with a ponderous eye to the morning clouds. “What do you think, Serene?

“That would make a fine chorus, I say. Sing it freely, it’s adorable. You’re so cute when you sing.”

“Everything I do is cute to you. Why can’t I be cool or dashing for once?”

“I’m sure someone thought exactly that when we performed in Coerthas. Just...didn’t say it is all.”

“Thanks, Serene.”

Serene Thicket, with an aura of ease befitting her name, turns her head around to sneak a glance at Narga Mujuuk trailing them. Her crimson ponytail flits about in the wind. “Hey Bout’a, we’re being followed.”

The wild, white-haired and world-weary Bout’a Throdoun draws an arrow in a whirlwind about face. “Who the fuck?” he shouts, aiming down his sights.

Narga’s hands shoot up in surrender. “Woah, woah! Peace! Good morning!”

Bout’a twitches his eye after getting a better look at her. He lowers his bow. “Good morning.”

“Good morning” Serene says with a wave. “Nice day for a hunt, isn’t it?”

“It is! We must be after the same beast” Narga lies with a helpless smile. “M-may I join?”

Before Serene can even launch a conversational examination of the situation, Bout’a chimes in invitingly. “Of course! Can’t pass up an offer of help from a Mujuuk. Your folk are peerless hunters, I hear.” He grins knowingly, and Narga’s face sinks into sickly pale shock. “The exploits of your bloodline are legendary. Infamous, some would say. But we’d be happy to have you.”

Narga takes a guarded step back. “What do you know of the Mujuuks?”

“Your red eye-markings are a dead giveaway. And on top of that, I’m from Gridania, same as you. Worked for the Trappers League for nearly all my life, writing up poachers and such. When you were but a child I caught you laying a prawn cage right under my nose.”

Memories pour over Narga’s eyes and ears, transporting her back to the time her big sister Pawah ordered her to lay the cages into a river not three yalms away from a Gridanian outpost. She was caught and arrested and reprimanded for her blatant thievery of the forest’s bounty. They let her go after a fortnight. She was never caught again. “I’ve changed, old man” mumbles Narga.

“Good. I hope you’ve learned how to keep quieter out in the field.” Bout’a chuckles with his hands in his pockets. “And I’ll have you know that I’ve changed too.”

“Keep your eyes peeled” Serene warns them. “We’re getting close to the oasis.”

The heat picks up and lifts the morning cold away into memory. They watch the green trees and bushes of the oasis from afar, planning their next move. “Bout’a will stake out the north side. I’ll set up on the south side.”

Narga nods in agreement. “Since there’s no other hiding spots, I’ll go with you, Serene.”

“Everyone have a linkpearl?” Serene taps her forehead, miming the manner in which one answers a call over the magical device.

Already walking off, Bout’a gradually raises his voice as he heads toward his hiding spot. “Bought another right before we left, yeah. Gonna flip my shit if I lose another one. I’ll call you two when I get there!” He slowly shrinks over the horizon, and dips around a patch of trees, out of sight.

Serene and Narga huddle together under the shade of a rather large bush, watching the water shimmer over the surface of the small oasis, waiting for a ferocious hydra to slink into the open. With a reassuring smile, Serene lays out her plan. “Let me get its attention first. Then, you go for a backstab, alright?”

“Yeah.”

A low static hums faintly from Serene’s ear. “Just don’t get in the way of my arrows” Bout’a warns them. “And don’t startle it too fast. Wait until it’s all the way out of the water. Then it’s naughty time.”

Narga startles awake, blushing a little, a familiar creeping lust building in her loins. Serene doesn’t notice. “By Halone’s fury,” Serene smiles in faux annoyance, “you say that again, I’ll taking your share.”

“Bout’a, out.” The hunt begins.

Under the leaves of the bush adjacent to the tranquil oasis, Narga squirms while she sits cross-legged next to the kneeling Serene. She struggles to focus on the water, the sounds of water breaking on sand, the smell of salt evaporating under the desert sun. Serene stands next to her, a tower of tranquility sharing a silent moment with her. Narga can’t help but steal a glance. Supple muscles with enough girth to rest her head on like a pillow. A full chest packed under a midnight blue breastplate. Eyes that revealed to Narga everything she ever wanted but could not dream of. Warmth. “We came a bit early” Serene glances at the sun to verify. “Take some time to relax and recuperate.”

Narga’s mouth spills her heart’s contents without consent of her brain. “You’re really pretty.”

“Thanks,” Serene replies, unfazed but frowning, “I get that a lot.”

“Sorry if I touched a nerve there. But I really mean it.”

“That’s alright. I’ll take the compliment.” Some silent minutes pass. For Narga, she could feel an invisible barrier dissipating between them, washing away like a sand castle.

“It might be a little late to tell you this, but this job is only worth about two thousand gil. That’s alright with you?”

“I can have some fun with two thousand. Sounds good.”

“What, pray tell, would you do with two thousand gil?”

“Get an airship ticket and visit Costa del Sol, walk along the beaches. Fish all day.”

“Would you bring friends?”

“No. And no family, either. Strangers, maybe.”

“Interesting. How about me? I’d love to show you my swimsuit.”

Narga’s mind explodes with images of Serene’s washboard abs framed above and below by a two piece swimsuit, dripping with ocean water and sweat. Her imagination pumps, throbs, builds in intensity like her cock tucked away inside her trousers.

“Hey there, handsome.” Serene licks her lips at the buldge in between Narga’s leg. The roegadyn leans onto Narga’s shoulder, bringing her chin close, looking for Narga’s soul though their eyes, then initiates a kiss so unexpected, so powerfully spontaneously.

Narga leaps up to indulge in the electric touch of Serene’s lips, slaking an unnatural thirst for taste. Her tongue pries, pokes, goads her to reciprocate. She can’t question it, gone completely in a sweet release of pent-up need. Blinded by herself, she doesn’t notice Serene’s hand reaching for the leather straps of her top. They enter an audibly wet kiss, melting caution and reason, sinking into each other’s being. Four arms embrace two slowly undressing bodies. Serene is the first to moan indulgently.

“I’ve heard it said” Serene whispers into Narga’s feline ears, “that when people endure a lot of stress, they either get very angry or very horny.” She yanks on Narga’s tail, and the thief mews innocently. Her calloused hands rub up and down the brown miqo’te’s sides. “As for what’s ailing you now, I’ve no idea. But gods witness me. I’m feeling a little naughty too. Now c’mere.” She grabs Narga’s head and mashes it against hers in a greedy, full-bodied kiss. Her long tongue creeps down Narga’s throat. Narga’s cock twitches free of its restraints, the subligar covering it falling onto the shaded dirt.

“Mwah...purr...” Narga feels a hand push her head down so that her chin sinks into Serene’s cleavage. The scent of leaves, of a rainforest clearing saturated with mist, fills her nose. She nuzzles her mouth into it and rumbles with another purr. Serene’s breathes turn harsher, louder now that her lungs are closer to Narga’s sensitive ears. “Want you...give it...”

“There, there, Narga. Bout’a tells me you’re a good kid, so I’ll give you what you want.” She shoves Nara’s head down further, grinding her against her chiseled abs, slick with sweat, down further to meet her red hued bush and the prominent clit just below it. “But is that what you really want? Tell me...what you want.”

“I want...want...mleh...” Her eyes remain closed, but Narga can smell what’s been presented to her waiting lips. She drools over it, reaching out tentatively with the tip of her tongue before rolling it along the rough contour of Serene’s solid inner thigh. The roegadyn moves a strand of her red hair away from her eye.

“Alright, alright. That’s pretty obvious. You want...to suck me.” Serene yanks Narga’s head off her sex, causing the horny cat to wince with longing. “But what about your needs? Bout’a told me you were a needy little brat when he caught you. Tell me. What you need. Or I’ll find out for myself. Could it be…?” She takes a vial of clear liquid from her pouch nearby and downs it.

Her stomach. So full. Narga rolls over onto her back when Serene brushes a hand over her bellybutton, tracing the outline of a remnant mound marking Narga’s binge of auto-fellatio the night before. Though there remains ample room for a load or three of Serene’s juices, Narga feels an emptiness beneath her balls. Her womb burns with anticipation, contracting with pure pleasure, almost to the point of cramping. She realizes everything as she stares incredulously at Serene’s fingers reaching for her folds.

“Keep going?” Serene wipes her lips as she bathes in the electricity of Narga’s girl cock penetrating her sex. Her grin spills drops of the potion she just drank. The vial is tossed aside, her hands grip Narga’s breasts in a gentle kneading that sends shivers up Narga’s body. Leaves rustle overhead. The water outside ripples with the wind, chilling their sweat-covered bodies. Narga starts to thrust in tandem with an emerging rhythm between them. Serene pants harshly, closes her eyes, weathering a storm brewing in her loins. “That’s it. Faster. Make me cum and I’ll give you what you need.” Something rustles amid her red bush as it bounces up and down. “I just drank a fast-acting Fantasia. Watch it grow. The harder you fuck me, the longer I get. If you do a good job, it’ll be big enough to titfuck you. Maybe we can get it big enough to reach your lips. Big enough to cream your throat. And I think that’s exactly what you need right now. My seed. Mmm. Gushing inside your throat…!”

Splurts of warmth awaken Narga’s desires. Milky white splashes up her cleavage and hits her chin, dripping down onto her collarbone. The smell wafts up into her nose like a waking dream. Narga opens her mouth, waiting impatiently for another release of roegadyn cum. Much to her surprise, she finds the puffy glans of Serene’s newly grown dick already penetrating her lips. It’s slick with pre, throbbing with blood. Narga circles her tongue around it as it grows even longer, talking to Serene’s new cock rather than the woman herself. “I need you. I _need_ you!”

“On one condition.” Serene crosses her arms, squeezing her breasts together into a steaming hot bouquet. “Tell me why you stole Bout’a’s linkpearl.”

“...Was gonna sell it.” Narga pouts.

“And?”

“...Steal more. Like I’ve always done. It’s the Mujuuk way.” The fire in Narga’s eyes abates. She lays her head on the ground and looks out at the oasis. “Like, I’m not involved with my kin anymore. But every instinct in my body, every skill I’ve learned was for hunting and stealing and poaching. And so what if it’s wrong? Seems like nobody else cares for whats right or wrong. Between the Empire, the law, whatever, we’re just fighting or running to exist. And a long time ago I chose to run along one path. The path of a thief.”

Serene nods her head in thought. “I’ve never been on the bad side of the law. But I get how this world can look pretty bad from your perspective. And it’s fine that you feel that way. Here, hun.” She pushes her slick glans up to stain the sullen miqo’te’s cheek. “You so generously offered to help us on our hunt. There’s a shred of good in you. Let’s build on that. How about we get back to business before the hydra comes?”

Narga looks tentatively at Serene’s cock. It looks a little different, less like an object, and more like a part of something bigger, in this case someone. Serene sensually runs her palm through Narga’s hair, nodding her head, pushing her tip onto the corner of Narga’s opening lips. Their eyes find each other.

Easily, motherly, Serene lifts her legs of rippling muscle, rises straight and tall over Narga, and straddles her. Her ample rear permits the thief’s cock to steal a place between Serene’s cheeks. The two share a gaze, words of longing shared but not spoken. Still, Narga’s voice eventually caught in her throat. “You...you cast a spell on me. You and that old man.”

Serene seems startled. Afraid to go further, she lifts her hands up into the air. “Can you explain a little more?”

“I stole Bout’a’s linkpearl.” Narga reaches over for her armor, pulls it out of her pouch and presents it to Serene. “When I bit on it to check if it’s real, I heard Bout’a’s voice and then...then...this heat came over me! Isn’t this revenge for taking your things? Aren’t I being punished?”

“Again, no.” Serene takes the linkpearl and holds it discerningly. “But thank you for being honest. In fact, I find that quite cute. Let’s get to the bottom of this. It smells of bardic trickery.”

Bout’a, meanwhile, lounges on a small wooden folding chair next to the water’s edge, bow nocked and resting in his lap. An ethereal chime startles him awake. He puts a hand to his forehead, activating his new linkpearl. “Bout’a here.”

“Serene. Narga is sick in the head because of some magic or hypnotism. She says you enchanted your old linkpearl after she stole it and it’s making her...excitable.”

“Well first off, tell her to stop stealing people’s things. Secondly, I damn well did enchant it” Bout’a says with a snarl. “It says my catchphrase when you press the button on top. And the magic makes you horny, like you so professionally described. Thought it would be a harsh lesson for any impudent, fucking_ thief _who’d steal my linkpearl! Someone like Narga, I see!”

Serene holds the old linkpearl and finds said button. She presses it and hears a faint ‘It’s naughty time’ soil her eardrums. Narga watches on with an expectant, incredulous look as the naked roegadyn straddling her enters a whispering fury. “You’re cruel! Get back over here and fix this!”

“She deserves such cruelty!” Bout’a shouts into the air, exploding like a firecracker. He gets out of his chair and reflects solemnly on his words, standing quietly before the languid, slow waves of the oasis. “Okay. I’ll make everything right. Let me just-”

Underneath Serene and Narga’s bush, the linkpearl goes silent.

“So it was his doing.” Serene crushes the linkpearl into dust and scatters the remains. “I’m not comfortable with this anymore.”

Narga’s vision starts to fade into a pink blur. “B-but...” Her consciousness slips past her, overwhelmed with a creeping fatigue. Serene gets up and hastily starts dressing.

“Stay hidden. I’ll take care of the hydras myself” she says before Narga falls asleep.

When the thief wakes up, a cloudless sky full of stars and blackness greets her. Serene and Bout’a sit across from her, watching, thinking to themselves as they sit around a campfire. Behind them, the skinned corpse of a hydra lies still and stinking. Its scales hang on a makeshift rack nearby. Two small tents hold the rest of their things. Bout’a speaks up first.

“You okay?”

“Fuck you” Narga spits back, turning away from the fire so her back feels the heat of it.

Shrugging in defeat, Bout’a turns to his companion. “I tried, Serene.”

“Both of you.” Serene stands up, determination lit by the amber glow of the campfire. “We’ve got a long way back to Ul’dah, and a lot of stuff to carry, crimes and transgressions included.”

Narga clenches her teeth, unmoving. “Sorry for stealing your linkpearl, Bout’a.”

Seething with disappointment, Bout’a scoffs at her. “That thing cost me five hundred gil. I’m taking that much from your share.”

“She gets all her share” Serene scolds him. “It’s your fault she couldn’t actually help.”

“Fine. Fine.” Bout’a throws a piece of wood into the fire. “Narga. Sorry for making you so horny you assaulted Serene here. No more hypnotizing enchantments from me.”

Narga looks at the ground. “And I won’t steal anything no more.”

Serene gets up and warms her hands up close to the flames. “I trust you two not to kill each other while I sleep. Hopefully we get to know each other better on the way back to Ul’dah. Goodnight.”

Their terse debrief over, the trio drift off to sleep, with Narga bundled in a cot outside, close to the ashes of their fire, dreaming of finishing Serene off with her mouth, taking all of her length and girth until it makes a tight seal around her lip. “Gonna...count you down...” she whispers in her sleep. “I want you to cum in my mouth...”


End file.
